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The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

Edited by Francis James Child.

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Rosie Ann

LIZIE WAN—B

[_]

Motherwell's MS., p. 398. From the recitation of Mrs Storie, Lochwinnich.

1

Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,
Greitin and making grit mane,
When down by cam her father, saying,
What ails thee Rosie Ann?

2

‘A deal, a deal, dear father,’ she said,
‘Great reason hae I to mane,
For there lyes a little babe in my side,
Between me and my brither John.’

3

Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,
Weeping and making great mane,
And wha cam doun but her mither dear,
Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann?

449

4

‘A deal, a deal, dear mither,’ she said,
‘Great reason hae I to mane,
For there lyes a little babe in my side,
Between me and my brither John.’

5

Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,
Greiting and making great mane,
And wha came doun but her sister dear,
Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann?

6

‘A deal, a deal, dear sister,’ she said,
‘Great reason hae I to mane,
For there lyes a little babe in my side,
Between me and my brither John.’

7

Rosie she sat in her simmer bower,
Weeping and making great mane,
And wha cam doun but her fause, fause brither,
Saying, What ails thee, Rosie Ann?

8

‘A deal, a deal, dear brither,’ she said,
‘Great reason hae I to cry,
For there lyes a little babe in my side,
Between yoursell and I.’

9

‘Weel ye hae tauld father, and ye hae tauld mither,
And ye hae tauld sister, a' three;’
Syne he pulled out his wee penknife,
And he cut her fair bodie in three.

10

‘O what blude is that on the point o your knife,
Dear son, come tell to me?’
‘It is my horse's, that I did kill,
Dear mother and fair ladie.’

11

‘The blude o your horse was neer sae red,
Dear son, come tell to me:’
‘It is my grandfather's, that I hae killed,
Dear mother and fair ladie.’

12

‘The blude o your grandfather was neer sae fresh,
Dear son, come tell to me:’
‘It is my sister's, that I did kill,
Dear mother and fair ladie.’

13

‘What will ye do when your father comes hame,
Dear son, come tell to me?’
‘I'll set my foot on yon shipboard,
And I hope she'll sail wi me.’

14

‘What will ye do wi your bonny bonny young wife,
Dear son, come tell to me?’
‘I'll set her foot on some other ship,
And I hope she'll follow me.’

15

‘And what will ye do wi your wee son,
Dear son, come tell to me?’
‘I'll leave him wi you, my dear mother,
To keep in remembrance of me.’

16

‘What will ye do wi your houses and lands,
Dear son, come tell to me?’
‘I'll leave them wi you, my dear mother,
To keep my own babie.’

17

‘And whan will you return again,
Dear son, come tell to me?’
‘When the sun and the mune meet on yon hill,
And I hope that'll neer be.’